A blog by Dominican Novices living at the CDN about our life in St. Louis.

Wednesday, November 15, 2017

Embracing community and conversion at “the Rock”

“Welcome to the Rock Church – where
our celebration is long and loud!”An
usher greeted me with these words, a bright smile, and a hug the first time I
attended Sunday Mass at St Alphonsus Liguori “Rock” Church in St Louis.I had heard wonderful things about the Rock Church
from past Dominican novices who made it their parish home during their canonical
years.My mind was made up to join the
Rock after my first experience of vibrant worship and welcoming community there.

Mass at the Rock is, indeed, “long
and loud” and is celebrated in the African American tradition. A gospel choir
leading the singing of hymns and spirituals, the procession at the beginning of
Mass led by a woman dressed in kente cloth bearing a cowrie shell-adorned bowl
of incense, the use of ‘call and response’ with the congregation during the
homily, African drumming, and the joyful communal shout of “harambee” to
celebrate good news or special events are all practices that reflect the Rock’s
enculturated worship.

The
physical worship space reflects this commitment, too.A side altar bears the image of Afro-Peruvian
St Martin de Porres, and there is another corner of the church that honors significant
African American Catholics like Thea Bowman, FSPA.And then there are the images of Jesus.In the small chapel where daily Mass is
celebrated, an image of Jesus Christ Liberator hangs on the wall.The paper worship aide I was handed by the
usher included an image of black Jesus alongside the song lyrics.

"Jesus Christ Liberator" icon by Robert Lentz, OFM

The Jesus of Vacation Bible School
flannel-boards certainly looked more like my European-American self than like a
Middle-eastern Semite.And despite the
ministerial and theological education I’ve received since those Vacation Bible
School days, those images are still operative for me and I know I am called to
deeper conversion.This is in part why I
chosen a faith community where my assumptions will be interrupted, where I am
exposed to new images of Jesus and the saints, and where the style of worship
is so different from my childhood church experiences.As a novice with a congregation committed to
becoming anti-racist, I share in the Sinsinawa Dominican challenge to
address the structural evil of racism at every level, including within myself. Aware of my own complicity and white privilege, accepting the
invitation to join a faith community where I am surrounded by so many African-American
brothers and sisters seems like one place to start.

The importance of such a conversion
is not abstract or theoretical, but feels deeply urgent and immediate.The day I moved to St Louis as a newly-minted
canonical novice in August, my adult hometown of Charlottesville, Virginia was
filled with tiki-torch-bearing white supremacists repeating racist and
anti-Semitic chants.A state of emergency was declared, and the violence that
ensued during and after the “Unite the Right” rally there led to one death and
dozens of injuries.I watched with
disbelief and deep sadness as my Facebook feed filled with posts of friends who were counter-protesting.As I prayed for and reached out to
loved ones in Charlottesville during my first days at the CDN, questions of how
to live out a commitment to racial justice as a truth-seeking, justice-loving,
active-contemplative Dominican-sister-in-training became personal and
pressing.

Moreover, three years after
the popular uprising for racial justice in nearby Ferguson, MO, and six weeks
after the acquittal of Jason Stockley, it is impossible to deny the wounds of
racial injustice in greater St Louis.One
Friday night as I was praying compline here at the novitiate house in the
Central West End, there were protestors passing by outside, bearing handmade
signs proclaiming, “no justice, no peace” and “black lives matter.”Dominican
Praise book in hand, before the Blessed Sacrament, the line between the
street and the sanctuary dissolved as their indignant calls for justice blended
with my own voice chanting psalms of lament.

Those questions continue to feel
important as I move through my canonical year – “apart” from the world with the
novitiate’s emphasis on prayer and yet deeply connected to all – especially
through ministry.Once a week, I
minister at Marian Middle School, where the majority of the students are
African American.A few weeks ago the
school social worker came in to give the standard “just say no to drugs”
presentation.During the classroom
discussion after she spoke, one sixth grader piped up: “People think that we
are more likely to use drugs just cause of our race.”It is sad and striking that my
eleven-year-old students are already aware of and able to articulate the
reality of racial profiling – a reality I was completely clueless of as a white
eleven-year-old.

Another Marian Middle School
ministry experience highlighted again the significance of reading and
responding to “the signs of the times” in terms of racial justice and images of
God.Recently, I taught the fifth and
sixth grade classes about St Mary Magdalen.My PowerPoint slide show included several images, including an image of
an African Jesus and Mary Magdalen.One of my more outspoken sixth graders looked
at the image on the screen, nodded and said emphatically, “Mm hmm!Thank you, Sister!”

Reflecting on these encounters with
my students leads me to a greater desire for solidarity with my
African-American brothers and sisters and greater awareness of the need to
repent of our nation’s “original sin” of racism. The Sunday after the Stockley
verdict came down, our pastor Fr Rick opened space after the homily for
parishioners to share what was in our hearts.One Rock parishioner stood and spoke firmly:“We are here.We are here.This is our home.We are not leaving.And we know God is with us.”Her words were met with nods, murmurs of
assent and a few shouts of “Amen!”

Her
message was a powerful preaching to me since I, as a white person, have never
felt the need to assert that my life matters, that I have a right to exist as
an equal member of civil society, and that God stands by me in that
struggle.Her bold assertion of identity
– which was enthusiastically affirmed and echoed around the sanctuary – has
remained with me in the weeks since.

Yet, of course, worship is not only
about intellect, but about our whole being.Church participation is not a cultural or sociological exercise, but an
encounter with the Living God.Ultimately,
our faith congregation should draw us closer to Christ, our Source and All in
All.We go to church to find and be
found by God, together in the sacraments, the gathered assembly, the shared
experience of prayer.We go to church to
celebrate the mystery of faith: the life, death and resurrection of Jesus.

And so I worship at the Rock because
I experience an incarnated sense of the Resurrection there.I hear echoes of Resurrection in the worship
that has gone on for 150 years, in the face of systemic injustice.I catch glimpses of Resurrection in that
community which has gathered faithfully to pray, to sing, to claim victory in
Jesus and their collective identity as God’s beloved.They have gathered to proclaim, “Jesus is
King!”, rejoicing in an authority that is infinitely higher and truer than the
forces of empire.They have gathered to
offer a beacon of light to the neighborhood and the city.This joyful lived witness, this articulation
hope feels like glorious insurgency, an eschatological proclamation, gospel
resistance. This is Resurrection in real
time.

I find myself humming or singing,
“Glory, hallelujah, Jesus lifted me!” – a common closing song at Mass at the
Rock – often now.I am grateful to be
internalizing this song of praise which feels like it encapsulates the joyful
Easter spirituality of my new parish home. I trust my participation in this
community is part of a deepening conversion in Christ to a richer vision of
Beloved Community, one where no one is excluded and each member of the human
family is cherished.

3 comments:

"They have gathered to proclaim, “Jesus is King!”, rejoicing in an authority that is infinitely higher and truer than the forces of empire." YES!! Beautiful reflection. True liberation has been found in Jesus, in the mystery of faith. It is a liberation we need to be reminded of so often. He is a King who liberates and yet also lays a gentle yoke upon us: love one another. My Black Catholic parish has given me a similar welcome and a similar challenge. Thank you for sharing!

About the Blog

Learn about the life of novices at the Collaborative Dominican Novitiate (CDN) in St. Louis, Missouri, through our reflections and photos. We hope this blog will be a place where our communities, families, friends and any one else who is interested can come to hear stories about what goes on at the CDN .

Special thanks to the 2011-12 novices Chris, Kelly and Krissie for setting up the blog. Explore the archives to read their stories.